Small Nagging Question
by shadeshark
Summary: Alucard finds yet another new way to get to Anderson. One chapter. PG so little kids won't go throw knives.


How could I forget? Anderson and Alucard both belong to someone else.  
  
This was Be Mean to Anderson Day. Poor Anderson.  
  
+++++  
  
A sharp stinging brought him back to awareness. Anderson snapped from his dream. He was in his hotel room, he remembered, and had crashed into bed to recover from a very nasty fight with chipped vampires-  
  
"Wake up!" Alucard smirked at him. Anderson broke out in a cold sweat as he grabbed for his shirt and weapons. A cold washcloth, soaked in water, fell from his side. Anderson reached for it muzzily.  
  
"Imagine my surprise when I couldn't get you to wake up," Alucard continued. "I assume you got a concussion earlier?"  
  
Anderson flipped the washcloth over in his hand and saw the red stain diluting into its material. "Damned creature!" He stabbed at Alucard, who danced out of the way.  
  
"I'll leave you to wonder:" the vampire dropped Anderson's straight razor from one hand, an empty blood pack from the other, "did I drink your blood, or not?"  
  
And he vanished. His departure was timely; a trio of weapons tore into the space he'd just occupied.  
  
Anderson remained sitting up in bed, ignoring the swords vibrating in the wall, as he shook the last of the cobwebs from his head. He swung his feet out of bed, grabbing a short sword and sliding it into the cut to keep it from closing before he could purify it.  
  
He headed straight to a church he knew would be open at this hour. He was confronted with a set of closed doors. He momentarily contemplated breaking in, but settled for scaling the outside of the building and settling down under an overhang. He was, technically, now under the roof. He began praying, sluicing holy water into his open cut.  
  
*~*  
  
Anderson walked into the sunlight from the doors of the church, wincing as the sunlight struck his eyes. He momentarily felt a sharp twinge of unease: was he too sensitive to the light? He scolded himself for his nerves. No human would be afraid of light after a vampire had drunk his blood once.  
  
He looked around. He was in London in the early morning, and he had plenty of time to finish his mission. He brushed aside the nagging question and the shock of waking up to find a vampire in his room.  
  
But only briefly.  
  
*~*  
  
"Oh, hello." Alucard looked up, smiling angelically. "I didn't expect to see you here."  
  
"Well?" Anderson growled. He had a flight to catch in half an hour.  
  
"I'd say. . ." Alucard looked around critically, "The decoration's very nice, the locals are congenial-"  
  
He didn't seem a bit surprised when Anderson's hands slammed down on the table in front of him. "I'm tired of the question. You answer it."  
  
"Sit," invited Alucard. "Unless you want the whole room to hear us."  
  
"I can hear you from here. Just keep your voice down."  
  
Alucard smiled brightly. "But I won't."  
  
Anderson slung himself into his side of the booth. A waitress came over. "Beer?" Alucard offered. The waitress departed before Anderson thought to stop her. Alucard leaned back on his side of the booth, his hat tipping over his eyes. "I like this place. You've found one of my favorite haunts."  
  
"It's rapidly becoming a fire hazard," growled Anderson.  
  
"This is personal, isn't it?" The vampire favored him with a smile that got as deeply under his skin as a vampire could wish. "Father Anderson, after the second time you ran from Hellsing," he went on before Anderson could erupt, "I promised myself I'd only drink your blood after I'd defeated you. So your question is, did seeing you helpless tempt my fallen vampire nature?"  
  
"That was my question," Anderson agreed.  
  
"Did it?" Alucard asked.  
  
"How should I know? I was recovering from a brain injury."  
  
Alucard watched him critically. "Why don't we duel? Winner gets either an answer, or blood. Wait. . . should that be 'more blood?'"  
  
Anderson wordlessly rose and motioned for Alucard to precede him to the door.  
  
He was too used to just fighting the vampire, he realized a moment later. He should have been expecting lesser trickery, such as the vampire hitting him with a barstool and darting out the door. Anderson was promptly evicted as a troublemaker by the bouncer.  
  
*~*  
  
"You've found me again," said Alucard. "Hm."  
  
Keeping his hand on the sword tip that pinned the vampire's hand to the bench, Anderson dropped down to sit by him. "You kept losing me at the bridge."  
  
"Yes, I love it when there's a river mist like that for me to blend with." Alucard crossed his ankle over his knee and draped his other arm over the back of the park bench. "I wasn't sure you were coming back. It's been over a month."  
  
"You didn't beat me twice," Anderson growled.  
  
"I seem to remember you retreating. . ." Alucard smirked as Anderson's grip tightened on the sword, probably sensing the priest's temptation to twist the blade. "So you think that I did indeed prey on you."  
  
Anderson's other hand locked into a fist. "You're a creature who treasures his victories. You'd wait until I was awake and dying to humiliate me. No, I don't."  
  
"But here you are, to find out." The vampire favored him with a bright smile.  
  
"Tell me."  
  
"Certainly. In exchange for. . . hm. . . I'd like to drink your blood. . ."  
  
"I thought you made a promise to yourself not to yet."  
  
"If you were to ask very nicely, I'd consider breaking it," Alucard assured him.  
  
"You realize I can hold you here until the day," Anderson said, nodding down at the vampire's impaled hand.  
  
"Yes, but," the vampire began, and then shifted his feet. He moved his other hand to the park bench and easily lifted it from the ground, throwing Anderson onto the grass. As the priest sat up, he plucked the sword from his hand and dropped it. "I already prepared for that."  
  
Again, Anderson's vicious attack met only air.  
  
*~*  
  
Weeks passed. Anderson booked and cancelled two flights to London.  
  
*~*  
  
Alucard stopped under the streetlamp at the sight of the tall figure that had just stepped onto the sidewalk. Something hit him in the chest. He reflexively caught it: a small glass vial.  
  
"Good evening, Father." He hefted the vial, held it up to the light. "I assume you're here for your question?"  
  
"You've gotten what you wanted."  
  
"The fact is: I didn't drink your blood. The problem is: you didn't specify if I should answer for my decision just now, or what I may or may not have done a few months ago while you were unconscious."  
  
A sword cleft the air. The satisfying thunk of its cutting through cartilage, bone, brain, and bone was balm to the priest's wounded soul.  
  
"I hope you don't want these back. I'm getting quite a collection. I'll use this for a centerpiece." He hefted the vial. He was, once again, gone before Anderson could reach him.  
  
*~*  
  
"You're getting serious," Alucard said from underneath the life-sized wooden cross. Anderson stood over him, panting with exertion. He drove a silver stake through the vampire's spine and into the ground. The stake was driven firmly through an elegantly calligraphed sheet of paper.  
  
"Yes," Anderson admitted. "Answer me or burn in the daylight."  
  
"Ah," Alucard said, grunting as the priest put a foot on the main beam of the cross and pushed, "what are you forgetting? Oh, I know. Seras is going to shoot you from a rooftop before dawn. Or Integra will order me to come in the strongest terms possible, and there will be nothing you can do to hold me."  
  
"Just. Tell. Me."  
  
Alucard twisted to look up at him. "If you let me drink, this once, I will tell you. No more mockery. No more evasions."  
  
"None," Anderson agreed, pushing the cross towards the road once more, listening to the vampire's ribs creak under the sacred weight. He deliberated a moment, wondering how much he would give to be free of the question that had plagued him for months. "This would require me to trust you."  
  
"But if I let you down this time, you'll be tired of asking, and you might not come back to fight me, and then I'd never have another chance at your blood." The vampire's grin was sharklike.  
  
The priest cut his forearm with a small sword, letting the blood drip on the ground. Alucard allowed him the condescension, unbothered at having to lap. He looked up. "Free me."  
  
"No."  
  
"All right. I didn't drink while you were concussed that night. I promised myself I wouldn't until you were beaten. . . say, just now."  
  
The silence seemed to stretch out forever. Anderson turned and walked away.  
  
Alucard basked in sweet victory until Seras came to come see what was delaying him. 


End file.
